How To Make A Web Series #2: Writing

Writing A Web Series

In this ongoing series, I’ll walk you through the ins and outs of making a web series, filled with lessons from making one or two and notes on what I should have done.

N.B: I’m talking about micro-budget, ‘we’re shooting off my credit card’ kind of web series here. The cons of these tiny budgets are endless. But the pros can be pretty dope too.

So you’ve developed your web series…

Now for my favourite bit —

The cheapest/hardest part.

Yep. Script time.

First, make sure you know how to format a script.

Don’t be the happy-go-lucky writer that whips it all up in Word. Read the scripts for some movies you love as a guide.

Have a look through The Internet Movie Script Database, Simply Scripts, or really any of these websites to get a sense of how your favourite movies/shows looked on paper before they were filmed.

The Big Short‘s script was a big game changer for me, for example. The script and the final product are so closely aligned that’s a lesson in tight writing but they’re also different in interesting ways too.

Second, you’ll want to find good screenwriting software.

Please. Don’t use Word. If you send your script as a .docx, someone will backspace something by accident and break the whole format. And if you’re committed enough to change the font and export it as a .pdf and make it look like a real screenplay — just use a real screenwriting program.

(This also goes for Google Docs)

I’ve been using Adobe Story (with all its bugs) but it’s been end-of-lifed so you can’t sign up anymore. I’m migrating over to WriterDuet which fills the cloud-based writing itch with the same functionality as Story.

Celtx is a great alternative that was floated around when I was in film school (and at an entertainment-focused co-working space).

Final Draft is an industry-standard but you’ll pay industry-standard price for it.

Third, you’ll want to actually write.

This bit’s harder than it sounds.

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed.

Ernest Hemingway

I can’t really talk you through this. You just have to slam your fingers against your keyboard until you have a first draft.

Fourth: repeat step three.

Five more times.

That’s assuming you’re looking at a six-parter. If you’re going longer, repeat it as many times as necessary. This is where I’ve found my creative writing brain meets my realistic production brain.

I find myself constantly getting to episode two or three and realising I need to pick up a thread, weave in a subplot, or cut back on locations. Depending on your initial idea, you have to go back to step one because it scales too quickly.

That’s okay. That’s a good lesson too. Just make sure you keep writing, all the way to the end.

If you need them, get other writers.

Yea, I get it, it’s your show. Your creative vision. You could totally do a Babylon 5. But I promise you’ll get to a point eventually — especially if you’re writing more than six episodes — where you’ll need other writers.

That’s okay. It’s not a weakness. Consider it a production exercise. Like strength training for your showrunning muscles.

If you’re precious about dialogue, get them to help with story outlines. They don’t have to do it all. And neither should you.

Then — rewrite.

Writing is rewriting.

I cannot exaggerate how much you WILL need to edit your first drafts. This isn’t negotiable. Show your actors. Read them out loud. Change the font. Get a pen.

Do whatever you have to do to fix your script.

Dan Harmon has a great perspective here. Break through your fear of a shitty first draft, and write your way to a good second draft and a great third draft.

When you do, you’ll find that, in no time at all, you’ve made it to the:

Feels good.

Pat yourself on the back. Take a break. Have a weekend off. You deserve it.

When you get back print out all your scripts and buy yourself a few highlighters.

Now it’s time to start: